


i love you i love you [and all of your pieces]

by spiekiel



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, bed sharing, cluster bonding, hernando and lito adopt the cluster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiekiel/pseuds/spiekiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hernando," he says, “this is going to sound crazy.  But I am eight people.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i love you i love you [and all of your pieces]

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [люблю тебя, люблю тебя [целиком и полностью]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6350731) by [Gianeya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gianeya/pseuds/Gianeya)



i.

 

Lito grew up poor.It means that even now, when he has a taste for fine wine and fine linens and the way three hundred dollar jeans hug Hernando’s ass, there’s some part of him that gets a dull, humble thrill every time the doorman of their building actually lets him enter.And when he gets drunk enough, or Hernando fucks him thoroughly enough, he thinks that the most important lesson growing up the way he did taught him is to always be a little bit in awe of how lucky he is.  

 

He has a hundred million peso apartment, he has beard burn on the inside of his thighs and the man he loves lying warm and sated along his side, even when he used to walk six miles to school every morning along a dirt road he never doubted when his next meal would be, that he had a home to go back to and a family that loved him.He is the one percent.  

 

There are other times, though, like now, that he thinks the most important thing living on a hundred pesos a week taught him was the calming power of having another body in your bed.He shared a bed, growing up, with two brothers and the occasional cousin, and however much he might have whined about it then, he always falls asleep better to the endless rhythm of someone else’s breathing.

 

The midday Mexico City skyline is a blur of vibrant color through his eyelashes, Hernando’s breath warm on his chest and the breeze through the apartment cool on his arm, Lito palms the soft flesh of his lover’s side, turns his head to press a kiss into the wild curls of his thick dark hair, and lets his eyes fall closed.And he feels Hernando, here, but he also feels Riley, curled against an unconscious Will in some rundown hotel room a thousand miles away, feels Wolfgang dozing fitfully in the passenger seat of a stolen car, feels Sun laid out on a hard prison pallet in Seoul.

 

ii.

 

Lito comes back from a jog one morning during his third month without a callback to find Capheus leaning out over the railing on his balcony, smiling down at his city like a blind man seeing for the first time.Lito doesn’t rush to join him, rubs the sweat off his head and shoulders with the towel by the weight bar, kicks off his sneakers and turns his hat backwards.

 

Capheus turns triumphantly as he approaches.“It is beautiful, is it not? I have never seen anything like it!”

 

Lito kneels next to him on the bench and props his elbows on the railing, gazing out over the rooftops surrounding them, the glistening windows and crowded boulevards.“I have not taken the time to look at it in a while,” he admits.“I have had more important things on my mind.”

 

“What, like your job?” Capheus asks.He turns his face into the sun like a flower, blissful, and Lito envies his naivete, or maybe his wisdom.“I think that deserves not as much thought as you are giving it.”Lito opens his mouth to argue, but Capheus cuts him off, “You have enough money for three lifetimes, yes? You have a partner who you love, who loves you.You are not hiding anymore.I cannot see what else you would need.”

 

Lito sighs.He thinks of camera flashes, teenage girls screaming, the feel of a bespoke silk suit against his skin and red velvet carpet under his feet.He thinks of jerking off in his trailer, Hernando’s voice small through the speakers of his phone on the pillow next to him, of parading Daniela around on his arm and feeling like he’s done something wrong, always.He thinks of his mother slapping his hand away from the fresh tortillas, three generations of hand-me-down church clothes, erasing all of the answers out of his older sister’s math textbook, playing football in the steep streets outside his childhood home.

 

“Maybe,” he says, feebly, “this is a good opportunity to do some more artistic films.”

 

Capheus laughs jovially.“Maybe, my friend.”He is quiet for a long minute, features overtaken by serenity, and Lito tries to relax the worked-out tension in his shoulders.“You know, Nomi told her girlfriend about us.I think it helped her a lot, so I am considering telling my mother.You should tell him.”

 

Lito raises his eyebrows.“Hernando?” he asks, incredulously, then shakes his head.“He is an intellecutal.He would not believe me, even if I could tell him.I am too good of an actor.”He looks over, but Capheus is already gone.

 

iii.

 

“Hernando,” he says, one night when Daniela has gone to Tijuana with friends to do something more youthful and energetic than she said an old married couple would have any taste for, “do you remember when I told you about that crying Korean woman?”

 

Hernando makes a soft, noncommittal noise where he’s leaning back against Lito’s chest, between his legs, eating rum ice cream out of the tub and halfheartedly watching one of Lito’s old telenovelas, from back when he was slim and teenaged.Some deep, instinctual part of Lito is humming in contentment at the fit of his pelvis in the curve of the small of his lover’s back, at the familiar looseness of their muscles, the easy cadence of their breathing, in time, maybe with seven other people, and he considers taking it back.

 

Before he can, Hernando shifts, rolling his head over on Lito’s shoulder so that he can look up at him through the thick frames of his glasses.“Also known as, that time you went insane because of the man with the villain moustache?” he asks.There’s the hint of a laugh in his voice, and Lito smiles involuntarily.

 

“This is going to sound crazy,” he says.“But I am eight people.”

 

Hernando laughs for real, sitting up between Lito’s legs to turn and face him.“ _Mi amor_ ,” he says, “I think I would have noticed if I’d been having sex with eight people for the past three years.”

 

Lito runs his hands up and down Hernando’s sides, bunching up one of his own tee shirts so that he can test his hands on bare skin.“No, I mean, in my head, there are eight people.”

 

Hernando manages to look concerned around a mouthful of ice cream.He pulls the spoon out slowly, wrapping his tongue around it in a way that makes Lito want to push him to his knees, or drop to his knees, and says, “Are you telling me you have multiple personality disorder.”

 

“No,” says Lito, “no, they are not me, but they are also, sort of, sometimes me.It’s like a psychic, telepathic link, I can hear the thoughts and feel the feelings of seven other people around the world, and sometimes I talk to them, and they talk to me.We are called sensates, I think because there are eight of us.”Hernando is smiling, and Lito tries, “I know that it sounds crazy.”

 

“Did you get a new script today?” Hernando asks.“Some weird science fiction thing, I bet.”

 

iv. 

 

Wolfgang knocks on their door in the middle of the night after breaking into the building through an emergency exit, and when Lito answers the door in his red silk briefs, he snorts and starts laughing.Lito glowers at him, the open air cooling his sleep-warmed skin, and he wants nothing more than to shut the door in the German’s face and sink back into the nest of blankets and naked boyfriend he left in the other room, so he says, “Why can’t you just appear suddenly in my hot tub like the rest of them?”

 

“If I’d known you had a hot tub, pretty boy, I would have come weeks ago,” Wolfgang says, raising a skeptical eyebrow.“Sorry to drag your lazy ass away from your beauty sleep, but I cannot actually walk through walls, despite common belief.”He hefts a duffle bag on one shoulder and pushes past Lito into the apartment, his leather jacket stinking of cigarette smoke and the stuffiness of airports.“Nice place.”

 

At the end of the entryway, Hernando appears, glasses in hand, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Lito’s sweatpants hanging low on his hips in a way that always makes Lito’s stomach drop.He puts his glasses on, squints through the light from the hall at Wolfgang, and says, “Who is this?”

 

Lito reaches out and pokes Wolfgang.Wolfgang looks unamused.“You seriously came here?” Lito whispers sharply, closing the apartment door quickly.“What the fuck are you doing in Mexico City?”

 

Wolfgang shrugs, “I’m wanted by pretty much every law enforcement agency in Europe, not to mention Germany.I need somewhere to wait out the Interpol most wanted storm, and since Seoul is obviously out, it was either here or Nairobi.Your guest bedroom looks nicer.”He walks away into the apartment, with purpose, and Hernando turns to watch him go, mouth hanging open.

 

v.

 

Kala shows up on their doorstep three days later, and has the decency to actually buzz up via their doorman, who has to help her haul her two suitcases and three handbags down the hallway from the elevator.“I am so sorry,” she says, sitting primly on one of the stools at their kitchen counter with a cup of tea hugged close to her chest, “my fiancé called off our wedding, but I still had the tickets for our honeymoon in Cancún, and I just had to get away from everything for a while.”

 

Hernando is rubbing a hand soothingly up and down her arm, over her cardigan.“You drove fifteen hours here from Cancún?” he asks.Kala smiles shyly, shakes her head, says she took another plane.“Well,” Hernando looks up at Lito, and Lito will never know how he got so lucky, but he’s never going to forget it again, or take him for granted, “we only have the one guest bedroom, but I’m sure we can figure something.”

 

“I’ll take the couch,” says Wolfgang, from across the room, a safe distance.Even if Lito weren’t in both their heads, he would have been able to notice the way Wolfgang melted the moment Kala stepped in the front door, the way she blushed from head to toe like a young girl in love for the first time when she saw him in front of their x-box in the first floor sitting room. 

 

“Thank you,” Kala says, genuine.Wolfgang nods stiffly, and Hernando smiles warm down at her, and Lito’s heart swells to bursting in his chest, he wants to seize Hernando up and pin him to the wall and kiss him as thoroughly as he’s ever been able, he’s made Lito the one percent.Kala tucks her hair behind one ear and looks up and meets Wolfgang’s eyes across the room, long and longing, and Lito hopes that maybe they can all share in each other’s luck, somehow.

 

vi. 

 

Riley calls their home phone from a cab out in front of the building, somehow having gotten Will half way across the world from Reykjavik to Mexico City with the man still out cold on a creative cocktail of drugs, still drooling lightly in her lap.The cabbie zips his lips and crosses his heart for a few extra pesos, and as Lito and Wolfgang heft Will’s dead weight out of the back of the car, Riley hovers uncertainly behind them.“We had nowhere else to go,” she says, “Nomi gave me your number and your address.”

 

“It’s fine,” Lito says, “if there is room for all of you inside my head, there is room for all of you inside my home.”Hernando meets them with the front door open, and as they shuffle in past him with Will, Kala and Daniela look up from the couch, where they’re curled up against each other with a bridal magazine open in between them, looking at dresses, and Kala smiles.She gets up, goes to Riley, hugs her.Lito hears Riley start to cry, and he can feel the rift in her, but he can feel it stitch itself together, too.

 

It’s the dead of night, everything quiet but the city itself, Hernando wraps his arms around Lito’s waist and presses a kiss between his shoulder blades, his beard teasing the bare skin of Lito’s back.Lito sways back into him, one hand resting over both of his lover’s, clasped on his stomach, and turns his head to catch Hernando’s lips in a languid kiss.

 

Behind them in the warm orange light from a side lamp, their guest bed is full, Will sprawled out at the far right with an IV drip in one arm, Riley curled small against his chest, Kala tucked in behind her with one arm over her waist, Wolfgang’s face buried in her cascading hair on the pillow behind her, back rigid and brow creased like he’s fighting actively in his sleep to stay away, but their ankles are hooked together.  

 

Hernando’s lips tickle his ear.“How many more of your multiple personalities do you think we’ll be adopting, _mi amor?_ ” he murmurs.

 

Lito looks around the room again, at Capheus with his arms and legs flung over the edges of the couch at the foot of the bed, Sun sleeping lightly in an armchair near the window, Nomi with her head pillowed on her arms folded on the work table across the other side of the bed like she fell asleep in the middle of something, and says, smiling, “Well, you are stuck with me whether you like it or not, and we are sort of a package deal.”Hernando laughs, and he adds, “Do not worry, there are only three more.”

 

vii.

 

Lito grew up with a big family.Even now after so many years away from that, it’s still comforting, the manic buzz of too many personalities in one space, the constancy of noise, the grounding feeling of a full house even from the master bedroom, looking out over the expanse of the nighttime city.And his big, dysfunctional family taught him many things, like how to knead tortilla dough, how to tie pigtails, like loyalty and trust and love, but he thinks most of all it taught him to always assume more people will come to dinner than you’re expecting, that family isn’t always just about blood, it’s about -

 

Hernando’s mouth is swollen red and slick, his hair a tumble across his forehead, glasses askew, and Lito tongues over his nipple, two fingers skimming over his hole and his other hand pumping him slow, and he’ll never say it enough, so he breathes it into Hernando’s skin like a prayer, “ _I love you, I love you_.”Hernando’s blunt fingernails scrape over Lito’s scalp, and he arches into his lips, and Lito wants this man in his bed forever, that’s what family is now, for him.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [i love you i love you (and all of your pieces) [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361506) by [codeswitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/codeswitch/pseuds/codeswitch)




End file.
